Twisted Affections
by The.anti.Kira36
Summary: Sequel to Until We Bleed. :  Arthur's starting his new life in America, but Allistor is not letting his little brother go that easily. Crap summary T-T. Rated for language and VERY possible sexual situations in later chapters. *Yaoi*
1. Chapter 1

A/N: First off, let me just start this off by saying how amazing you guys are! I seriously did not expect so much positive feedback on my last story at all! I was so shocked |in a good way x).| So since you are all so amazing, I've decided to write you all a multichaptered sequel to the story (btw if you have not read Until We Bleed I would suggest doing that because this IS a sequel so some things might not make sense if you don't).

Second, I have to rant about how freaking unreliable the Internet is! So in my last story I said that England was going to live with his eldest brother, Wales because I found on a website that Wales was the oldest of the four(I later found out there weren't even four, there were five because Ireland is apparently split into two personifications). THEN last night I did some more googling and found a website that said Scotland was the oldest and I wanted to rip my hair out! So yeah I really don't know which one to believe but in my story this is how the order will work. The eldest is Wales, next it's Scotland, then Ireland (North or South), and finally England. The names I will be using are: Wales/Dylan, Scotland/Allistor, Ireland/Aiden, England/Arthur. If you do not like any of the names given to these characters please bear with me as Scotland and England will be the main focus and the other two are mainly side characters.

WARNINGS! human!au/heavy language/sexual references/possible sexual situations in later chapters so rating may go up/violence

PAIRINGS: definite onesided!scoteng and onsided!prusaus, more pairings to come in later chapters

DISCLAIMER: Why I no own? T-T

Roderich Edelstein hated his job.

Back when he was naive and ambitious, Roderich had given up an 'impractical' career in music for what he figured would be a promising and more success job of becoming a psychiatrist and opening up a mental institution. He figured it would be a rewarding career choice and would mean providing aid to those less fortunate. Apparently he was too ignorant to realize how the real world worked.

Instead of helping patients with real mental disabilities, the police used his facility as a dumping ground for highly unstable criminals who they had no idea what to do with. All a felon had to do nowadays was start screaming to invisible things to avoid a life sentence in prison. Granted, most of these men (and the occasional woman) were stuck in here for life, but most would prefer to live out their life sentence here than to subject themselves to the horror stories of Braginski Prison.

Roderich sighed and tightened his grip on his clipboard as he made his way down the hallway to Patient 87's room, or better known as the 'The Awesome Quarters of Gilbert Beilschmidt'. Roderich rolled his eyes when he thought of the obnoxious silver haired man, but kept a straight face as he nodded to two security guards making their usual rounds and lightly knocked on the door before taking out his key and letting himself in.

"Specs!" The overly energetic man yelled as he sat up from his bed and bounded over to the stiff man, throwing his arms around him and trapping him in a suffocating hug. "You should have told me you were coming; I would have cleaned this up shit hole!"

Roderich scrunched up his nose at the obscene language and pushed himself away from the man before straightening up his pristine work attire and brushing away invisible dust from his shoulder. "Hello Gilbert. You were noticeably absent from your session with Miss Zwingli this morning. Could you inform me as to why that is?"

Gilbert gave out a chortling laugh. "'Could you inform me as to why that is'? Seriously, Specs, you need to learn how loosen up. You know, I can always help you with that if little miss wifey isn't cutting it." He laughed when the brunette flushed and gave the expected 'That's Dr. Edelstein to you, Beilschmidt.' before continuing. "Anyways I don't like going to that crazy bitch's little therapy sessions. All she ever does is talk about her fucking brother the whole fucking time. It's weird as hell. You should probably consider getting that whack job a straight jacket and a room."

"Hm. Ironic don'cha think, coming from the man who's a certified paranoid schizoid." A smooth voice cut in.

"Shut the fuck up Allistor, as if you're one to talk." Gilbert snapped, turning slightly to glare at the red head.

Allistor grinned at the flustered man and turned to the psychiatrist. "Need anything else, laddy? Maybe something I can be of any service to?" He asked pulling his hand up as if to take a drag of an invisible cigarette, but instead dragged his fingers along his bottom lip almost sensually and winking at the man.

Roderich turned scarlet at the man's obvious implications, not quite used to, well except for Gilbert, being flirted with in such a manner. "N-no. I think I have said all I have needed to for today. Good day, gentlemen." He said quickly and turned on his heel and headed out the door.

Gilbert waited for the familiar bang of the deadbolt being locked into place before practically pouncing on the Scotsman.

"What the fuck was that, you asshole? Roddy's mine don't even fucking think about coming on to him you fucking bastard!"

Allistor rolled his eyes and threw the furious German off of him. "I was not 'coming onto' him. How the hell are we supposed to get out of here if the fucking head of this shithole is standing here questioning you about stupid shit?"

"Oh." Gilbert said dumbly. "So uh, you were pretending to hit on Roddy to get rid of him?"

"Aye, dumb ass. You have nothing to worry about, brunettes aren't my type."

"Oh?"

"I prefer blondes."

"Do you now?" Gilbert asked slyly. "Well do I know the guy for you. He squeals quite a bit and charges a shitload, but boy is he worth it. Cutest little French fry you ever did see."

"I hate French people." The other man mumbled pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from under his mattress and igniting it.

"Usually I do too, but there was just something about this Francis guy that was just so..." He trailed away wistfully, too lost in his perverted daydreams to notice Allistor stiffen.

"Francis...?" He asked carefully concealing any emotion, but his rigid hold on his cigarette told otherwise.

"Hm? Oh uh Francis Bonne-something... It started with a 'b' I think. Not sure. But man did he have the tightest ass. Cried like a virgin, too, every time the awesome me would-"

The man was suddenly cut off by a searing pain under his chin as he was sent flying backwards onto the cold tiled floor. Not comprehending what exactly had just happened, the silverette stared up at Allistor in complete and utter shock.

"Dude. What the fuck was that?"

"You talk too much."

Allistor chuckled at the completely dumbfounded expression his roommate gave and reached under his mattress, pulling out a large syringe and sauntered over to the fallen man. Crouching down to the man's level, Allistor felt sadistic glee at the man's absolutely terrified expression. Oh how he had missed that look of pure, unrestrained horror.

Fingers trembling with excitement, Allistor traced the dripping needle over the man's exposed arm.

"Tell me, Mr. Beilschmidt." He breathed, feeling as though an electric current was coursing through his veins as the man being addressed began to tremble.

Allistor let his features return to his usual smirk and took a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling into the frightened and confused man's face.

"How would you like to die?"

Gilbert didn't get a chance to so much as open his mouth when the needle was plunged into his skin.

~PAGE BREAK~

Arthur was sitting in his car, staring up at the enormous college campus from his rolled down window and was beginning to regret his decision of going to such a large school and so far away from home. He wanted to turn around and drive the four and a half hour journey back home to his two loving brothers who would most likely welcome him back with open arms.

The corners of the boy's, or as he would like to believe, man's, mouth turned slightly upward at the thought of his two brothers. After the 'incident', Arthur had figured his life was pretty much over especially since he was moving so far away from his boyfriend Francis, but found that he had made it through surprising okay with the encouragement and support from his two older brothers. His brother Aiden, who was only a year and a half older than him, offered to home school the Brit until the scars completely faded away.

The smile disappeared immediately when Arthur thought about the scars. He touched his mouth self consciously and looked in the mirror to make sure the hideous markings hadn't reappeared in the last fifteen minutes. Of course there was nothing there; the scars had faded about a year ago. That didn't mean there presence wasn't any less prominent to the Brit though.

Flipping the mirror up, Arthur returned his attention to the school. A large crowd of people had flocked onto the front lawn at some point and the mass of smiling faces made Arthur feel even more awkward and alone. Sighing, the Brit took out the college pamphlet and tried to determine the best route to his dorm.

Head bent down to read the tiny letters, Arthur didn't notice the small group of teenagers heading towards his beat up Chevy Chevette until the leader of the trio was banging on the hood of his car.

"Dude what the hell have you been doing? You've been siting in there like a creeper for over a freaking hour and it's starting to freak me out." He glanced down at Arthur's hands in his lap, obscured by his position. "You masturbating?"

Arthur's face turned a deep scarlet at the comment. How dare he imply, well more like openly state, that he was doing such a thing? The nerve!

"For your information I was trying to locate the dorm building, you damn wanker."

"Hey dudes check it out, he's totally British or something!"

All of a sudden, Arthur found that his personal space being totally invaded by the obnoxious boy as the latter stuck his head inside the opened window. He whistled when he saw that the shitty inside matched the shitty outside.

Meeting the blonde's irritated glare, he coughed awkwardly. "Er..Nice ride?" He mumbled lamely before scratching the back of his neck. Suddenly realizing why he was halfway in the Brit's car in the first place, the sandy haired boy plucked the pamphlet from the other's hands with two fingers. "Now let's see~" He said, adjusting his glasses and squinting at the tiny map. "That's Building A in front of us and Building E is where the dorms are. We can take you there if you'd like! It'd be the noblest thing to do, helping out a new freshman and all!" He exclaimed with an 100-watt smile.

"You're a freshman too..." Arthur heard one of the boys he had noticed before that was very similar looking to the boisterous sandy haired one still halfway inside his car.

"Haha! Good joke, brah."

Arthur rolled his eyes and contemplated his options. Although he wasn't too fond of the loud mouthed boy, the other two blokes seemed rather decent and it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to have a few acquaintances here.

Sighing, the blonde shoved the other boy out of the car. He rolled up the window before removing the key and getting out. Arthur stretched his sore muscles and turned to two boys who were not currently on the ground rubbing their sore tush.

"How you do?" He asked politely, shaking their hands firmly. "My name's Arthur Kirkland. Yours?"

"Honda Kiku. It is nice to meet you." The Asian boy said with a curt nod.

"I'm Matthew." Arthur heard quietly from the other boy who quickly buried his face in his sweater when the Brit turned his head in his direction.

Opening his mouth to greet the shy boy, Arthur was rudely interrupted by an arm being slung around his shoulder. "And I'm Alfred Jones, the most awesome person you'll ever meet, for reals!"

The award winning smile was back on the boy's face and Arthur just rolled his eyes and pinched the skin on the boy's hand to get him off.

"Ouch! That hurt!"

"It wasn't meant to tickle."

"So!" The Asian boy cut in, sensing the mood and trying to change the subject. "We will show Arthur to his room, yes?"

Matthew quickly agreed and Alfred pouted rubbing his injured hand.

Kiku led the way past the large crowd and Matthew clung onto the Asian boy's jacket like a small child would to his mother.

Realizing that nobody was going to talk anytime soon, Arthur sighed and realized he was going to have to be the one to break the awkward silence.

"So...Where are you blokes from?"

"Well, I am originally from Japan, but I moved to the outskirts of the city with my family about three years ago." Kiku turned and smiled at the Brit. "I still do not understand western culture all that much, but these two have been helping me adapt."

He then nudged Matthew signaling it was his turn to contribute to the conversation.

"Oh uh... I lived with my mom up in Canada most of my life before I moved down here..."

Arthur tilted his head. "Did you now? That's funny I don't hear a hint of an accent at all."

"Well I-"

"Hahaha!" Alfred cut in apparently fully recovered from his moment of sulking. "You would if he talked more! Trust me it's there."

"Well thank you 'Matthew'." The Brit said sarcastically. "I suppose we have to hear your story now too?"

"You bet!" The boy yelled enthusiastically, not catching the other's sarcasm. "Born and raised here in Philly! Yup if you wanna know the hotspots just hit me up! Plus I know the best stripper bar a couple miles down the road in case you're ever feeling like a par-tay!"

Arthur flushed at this. "Aren't you too young for stripper bars?"

"Fake i.d., duh! Want one?"

"No thanks." Arthur muttered a little too quickly causing the american's grin to expand.

Kiku coughed in his hand loudly. "Um, if you two are done, we're here."

Arthur stopped walking and stared up at the large brick building towering over them. Besides the newly painted graffiti by the door, the place looked relatively clean and well kept. Kiku opened said door and was closely followed in by Matthew and Alfred.

Well this was it. He was really going through with this whole college thing. There really wasn't any turning back now.

Exhaling slowly, Arthur followed the trio.

What he found inside wasn't quite what he had been expecting.

Charging straight for the door that Arthur was currently holding open was a furious Italian boy with a suitcase in hand.

"Ve~! Come back Lovino!" Another boy almost identical in appearance yelled after him.

"No fucking way! No fucking way am I rooming with you and that damn potato bastard. You can forget it!"

The other Italian boy whined in protest and pounced on his brother trying to force him back into the room. A mixture of "ve's" and "fucking bastard's" were beginning to emit loudly from the scuffle.

Arthur just stood in the doorway unsure whether to walk around the two or turn the hell around. Was everybody in the school a complete nut job?

"Feliciano!" A gruff voice yelled, scaring everyone in the hallway half to death. Arthur turned to see a tall and well built blonde marching over towards the Italians.

"Release your brother at once. If he does not wish to room with us that is fine, but don't make him do something for your own selfish reasons."

The Italian known as Feliciano sniffed and reluctantly let go of his struggling brother. Said brother ran like hell the moment he was released and nearly ran the poor Brit over.

"You'll have to excuse them. They're always like this unfortunately." Arthur turned to see Kiku beside him smiling slightly in amusement at the Brit's bewildered expression. "I had the um... pleasure of rooming with them last year..."

The blonde chuckled softly, trying to imagine waking up to that every morning.

The sulking Italian turned around at the nose and his frown did a complete one-eighty.

"Ve~? A new student?" Yet again Arthur's personal space was completely invaded by the cheerful Italian. "You must be a freshman, huh? My name's Feliciano, but you can call me Feli, everyone does! What's your name? Do you like pasta?"

Arthur blinked at the strange boy, but found his energy infectious and smiled at him warmly. "It's good to meet you, Feli. I'm Arthur, and I don't eat pasta very much; I prefer tea and scones myself."

"Yucky that sounds tasteless!"

"Feliciano! Do not be rude!" Both boys jumped at the booming voice and Arthur craned his head upwards to look at its owner who now had his attention turned towards the silent Japanese man.

"Hello there, Kiku. It is a shame you have decided not to room with us this year. Did you have a good summer?"

"Hai. Thank you very much, Ludwig. And yes it is a shame we will not be living together this year, I shall miss the peacefully evenings we all spent together."

The German man grunted at the sarcasm and turned the Italian.

"Come on, Feli, we need to unpack."

"Okie dokie~! See you two around!" He yelled waving at the two as he and the German man disappeared into their dorm.

Arthur shook his head. "This place is... very diverse I must say."

Kiku laughed and nodded. "That it is." He gave Arthur a sideways glance before smiling. "Shall we go find your dorm?"

"Ah yes! I had almost forgotten."

Both laughed at this and Arthur followed the Japanese boy down the hall to his dorm.

"Here you are, I am a couple doors down that way. Please if you need help with anything just knock."

With that Kiku bowed slightly and disappeared into his room.

Arthur stood at the door for about five minutes, unsure if he really wanted to go in or not.

"Please don't let them be crazy, please don't let them be crazy, please don't let them be crazy." He chanted to himself as he squeezed his eyes shut and opened the door.

"Dude it's like totally the British guy or something!" An all to familiar voice yelled.

"Oh for the bloody love of God."

~PAGE BREAK~

Two suicides.

Two lives thrown away as though they were nothing right under the roof of his very institution.

Roderich shook his head, remembering the bodies sprawled across the ground like rag dolls. Allistor had been clutching a half empty bottle of pills and Gilbert had been lying on the floor with each of his limbs spread out as though he had standing before he collapsed to the ground.

Roderich's eyes stung at the thought of the silver haired man and he rubbed them furiously.

Sure Gilbert had been a pain in the ass, but he had been one of the best of his patients, the only one that had seemed completely sane. He was planning on releasing Gilbert back into society next month; he was going to get a chance to live a real life away from here.

But now that chance had been snuffed out with the swallowing of those pills.

"Why?" Roderich muttered angrily feeling tears begin to spill from his eyes. "You had a chance you idiot. You had a fucking chance!"

The man collapsed behind his desk and sobbed. Damn it all he had loved that man. He was too proud and professional to ever admit it, but Gilbert had won his heart the first time he had given him that cheeky smile of his. And now he was gone.

Roderich remained huddled under his desk for several minutes before standing up shakily and reaching for his phone.

Clearing his voice and wiping hurriedly at his face, he dialed the number to one of the nurse's office.

"Hello?" A young female's voice answered.

"Hello Miss Zwingli. Would you please give me the numbers to the families of the deceased." He stiffly trying to make his voice sound as detached as possible.

"Yes, sir, right away. I will email them to you immediately."

"Thank you very much, Lili." Roderich hung up and slumped down into his desk chair. He was terrified at the thought of delivering the terrible news, but felt obligated as the owner of the facility.

True to her word, the email popped up in a matter of seconds and the Austrian sighed.

"Longest fucking day ever." He muttered as he began dialing.

A/N: So yeah sorry if this is a sort of boring/tedious chapter you guys. It's only the beginning so I promise it will get more exciting and darker from here on out :D ahahaha. Anywho~ Please review you guys, you really have no idea what your comments mean to me and how much they motivate me to write more. :3

Well until next time! 3

-Dani


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Holy slow update, Batman! :-o ! I'm sorry you guys AP lit is kicking my ass in more ways than one this semester -.-" .. But thank y'all so much for y'alls favorites and reviews! They are just so motivating to me :3

WARNINGS: strong language/disturbing scenes/graphic violence/sexual themes

PAIRINGS: not too sure yet actually x)

DISCLAIMER: Yup. I still don't own. sadness.

Gilbert groaned as he sat up and felt as though his head had been hit by a large semi-truck.

Damn, he did not feel good. What the hell had he been doing last night? This must have been one of the worst hangovers he's had in years.

A puff of smoke hit him full in the face and he gagged.

Looking at the man who was calmly smoking next to him, Gilbert felt his eyes widen in realization.

"You fucking bastard!" He yelled as he scrambled to his feet clumsily and pointed an accusing finger at the smirking man. "What the fuck was that? You could have fucking killed me you know!"

Allistor shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette.

Feeling one of his eyes twitch, Gilbert sat back down on the metal table and rubbed his temples to try and rid himself of some frustration and his pounding migraine.

Just then, a pair of brilliant green eyes peeked around the corner at the two. They caught sight of the very pissed off Gilbert and the owner broke into a wide grin.

"Gilbert, mi amigo! It's been too long!"

Perking up at the familiar Spanish accent, Gilbert looked up just in time to be suffocated by the overjoyed man.

"Gah! C-can't can't breathe... Antonio!" He squeaked in between gasps.

The Spanish man laughed sending warm vibrations coursing through Gilbert and the hold immediately loosened.

"Sorry." He said with a grin.

Pushing away from the man playfully, Gilbert cracked a toothy grin at his friend. "Thanks for helping us out, man. I owe you one."

Antonio laughed at this. "You owe me like fifteen, amigo."

"Hey not true! If anything you owe me like twenty for being graced with my awesome presence so much."

Allistor rolled his eyes at the two men bickering playfully like silly junior high girls and continued smoking. He grimaced when out of nowhere Gilbert's face turned from a lopsided grin to a sickly green and the man bent over as he vomited all over the tiled floor.

"Ay dios mio! Gilbert, don't puke all over the place! Quickly, go find a bathroom!"

Not having to be told twice, the sick man jumped up and ran to the direction of the restroom clutching his stomach.

Silence entered the room swiftly with Gilbert's departure. Antonio snuck a sideways glance at the Scottish man nonchalantly tapping the ashes from his cigarette, not seeming phased at all despite the prominent smell of bile filling the room. The Scotsman turned his piercing gaze towards the man causing heat to rise to the brunette's cheeks.

"I'm uh... I'm going to get something to clean this up with." The usually sociable Spanish man stuttered, finding himself uncomfortable under the stare.

Shaking his head and Antonio turned to go find a wash cloth and some disinfectant for Gilbert's lovely 'thank you' gift.

Eyes widening when he felt a hand clenched down on his shoulder, Antonio soon found himself slammed into the nearby cabinet, the stench of preserved human bodies overtaking his senses as he was pushed against two very sturdy objects one being the man whose grip had never left his shoulder.

Hot breath ghosted past the shell of his ear and the Spanish man shuddered as the body pressed closer to his back. A sharp pain quickly followed suite as his skin gave way like paper to the jagged knife currently being pushed a hair away from his spinal chord. The man would have screamed, had a cool hand not been pressed onto his mouth the moment his lips parted.

"Now then. If you don't wish me to ensure you live the rest of your life confined to a wheelchair, you will tell me where to find Francis Bonnefoy." The Scotsman whispered icily.

Antonio whimpered when the knife was twisted further into his flesh and felt the hand over his mouth let up slightly.

"F-F-Francis? Why d-do you w-why do you want to know-"

The man gave out a muffled cry as the knife was shoved in to the hilt.

"G-God! Please stop! Please stop!" His muffled sobs could be heard in the eerie silence.

"Tell me what I want to know." Another good twist of the knife emphasizing the cruel man's point.

"He's in Berlin! Berlin! P-Please stop! God, make it stop!"

"Very good." The man purred and slid the knife out slowly the man beneath him crumbling to the ground.

The Hispanic man moaned in pain when his abused body hit the ground. Allistor gazed down at the man unemotionally and bent down and picked up the broken man.

"As unfortunate as it may be, I still have some use of your friend over there, so make sure he doesn't want to stay got it?"

Antonio didn't need to hear the unspoken 'or else' in the threat and nodded his head shakily. Allistor dropped him once again but this time the Spanish man landed on shaky feet.

Allistor smirked and took another drag as the pathetic man looked up at him with wide eyes as though in need of further instruction.

"Well, go find a jacket or something, can't have him seeing all that blood."

Green eyes blinked at the demand. Nodding regardless, Antonio disappeared into one of the employee's offices and came back out to pull on one of the discarded lab coats.

"Good, boy." Allistor's smirk widening as the man flushed in anger at the condescending tone.

"Glad to see you two are getting along oh so well while I was out there puking my brains out." A haughty voice said.

Both men snapped their heads over towards the voice to see the pissed german man who currently had his arms crossed against his chest a frown adorning his lips.

With a sigh, Allistor removed his hand from the man's shaggy hair and straightened up. "You always know how to interrupt at the worst moments."

Gilbert's nose scrunched up at the man's harsh remark and felt his gaze harden as he glanced at his friend whose eyes were glued to the floor.

"Fine then, don't let me interrupt." He replied hotly and turned on his heel to leave when a hand caught his forearm.

A tongue clucked disapprovingly as the silverette was spun back around to meet fiery hair and cold emerald eyes.

"Now, now, Gilbert. Don't be childish. I was just asking Antonio the fastest way to Berlin that's all."

"What's in Berlin?"

Allistor smirked. "Our French fry."

"I didn't know you were this desperate." The Scotsmen couldn't help but roll his eyes when the man smiled mischievously up at him.

"Whatever, dumbass."

Gilbert laughed at what he thought was badly concealed embarrassment, but the corners of his mouth pulled down as his brows furrowed in thought.

"Um...I think I'm gonna stay here with Antonio and lie low for a while."

"Huh. Did you ever tell Antonio about this plan I wonder?" A dangerous glare was shot in the Spaniard's direction who flinched at its intensity.

Oblivious as ever, Gilbert chewed his bottom lip in concentration. "Well I mean no, but Antonio's my bud so..." He turned towards the man in question then. "You don't mind do you? I mean just until this whole thing blows over?"

Antonio looked at his friend, then the man glaring at him over his head and bit down on the inside of his cheek until a familiar metallic flavor hit his taste buds.

Clearing his throat, Antonio glance back at his friend's pleading eyes and felt his heart break as the look turned into complete shock and betrayal at his next words.

"Didn't you put me through enough shit already, amigo? Now you want me to babysit you for God knows how long? No thank you."

Allistor's smirk widened at the silver haired man who stood there in shock for a moment before turning around and running out the door furiously rubbing at his eyes. With a sly glance at the Hispanic man and a mouthed 'good job', Allistor shoved his hands deep into his pocket before striding slowly toward the door.

The Scotsman stopped suddenly about halfway out the doorframe. "If you tell anybody about what has happened here, I'll kill him."

Antonio flinched at the warning and nodded; his eyes averted as he was too afraid to meet the piercing glare boring into him.

"Hn." Was all that came from the man as he disappeared from view and Antonio collapsed on the ground his shoulders shaking in silent sobs as he prayed for his friend.

Once outside, the Scottish man found his teary-eyed companion wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"Quit your crying laddy, you're getting snot all over yourself."

"I'm not crying!" Gilbert snapped as he glared at the Scotsman.

"Good. It'd be a waste of time for that bastard. He's not worth it."

"Damn right he's not!" The silverette snapped but quickly lost all momentum for his attack on his friend and sagged in defeat. "Shit... I need something to get my mind off this bullshit."

"I'm sure a few whores in Berlin could do the trick."

Gilbert perked up immediately and his face broke out into a hopeful smile that Allistor almost found endearing. "Wait... You still want me to go with you?"

"Sure."

Allistor's eyes widened when the other man tackled him into a suffocating hug. Acting quickly, he punched the German in the gut and the other man recoiled immediately.

"Dumbass." He muttered.

Gilbert grinned through his pained expression and Allistor just rolled his eyes at the idiot.

~PAGE BREAK~

When he had been about seven years old, Arthur remembered reading somewhere that the average man speaks about seven-thousand words each day, and at the time he had figured that was a pretty legitimate generalization. Obviously whoever had made up that statistic had never spent an afternoon with Alfred Jones.

Deciding that his brother was boring him and it would be great fun to try and find ways to irritate his new roommate, Alfred had spent the entire afternoon following the Brit back and forth from his car to collect his belongings and hovering over his shoulder to criticize everything he pulled out from his duffle bags. Currently the obnoxious American was doing the latter.

"Dude, how many sweater vests does a guy need to own? That went out of style like... heck when were sweater vests even in style? And dude, really? Briefs? Are you serious? These look freaking ironed too! And what's Doctor Who? Is that like British porn?"

The boy went on and on and on, and Arthur felt his stoic demeanor about to crack as the American leafed through his duffle.

"If you'd kindly keep your hands away from my belongings, it would be greatly appreciated." He ground out through gritted teeth.

"Hahaha! Whatever you say, Limey boy!"

The Brit bit back a retort and exhaled through his nose. His hand clenched and he wanted nothing more to give in to his irritation and give the boy a good sock to the jaw. There was no point in starting a fight on the first day back though, and Arthur's hand went slack.

Alfred sighed in disappointment and gazed out the wide window thoughtfully.

"Dude, where the heck's our other roommate, shouldn't he have been here already? You two are so boring!"

"Good. Go find some of your other friends to torment."

"Good idea, dude!"

The American departed loudly leaving his two roommates to sigh in relief.

"Honestly Matthew, I don't see how you put up with that all the time. You must be a saint."

Matthew blushed and kept his eyes glued to the shirts he was folding. "Yeah sorry about that. He's honestly not that bad. He should calm down after about a week or two..."

"Lord, I hope so, or else he'll drive us all mad."

The Canadian gave a shy smile and Arthur was about to return the gesture before a huge yawn overtook him.

"Are you tired?"

"Yeah." Arthur replied scratching the back of his head. "It was a long drive."

"You don't have to unpack everything right away you away you know. It's not going anywhere, eh."

The blonde smiled at the shy boy. "Ah... So there's that accent."

The Canadian boy flushed in response.

Stifling another yawn, Arthur stretched his arms out towards the ceiling before sagging back down.

"You know, I think you're right. A little break doesn't sound half bad right about now."

Matthew hummed as the blonde made himself comfortable on the bottom bunk opposite of his .

Arranging all his pillows he had brought like it was an art form, Arthur finally nestled down in them and sighed contently letting the cool breeze from their open window and Matthew's quiet shuffling about lull him to sleep.

As the Brit slept, he had the most peculiar dream.

In his dream, he was a young boy dressed in an outfit that could have rivaled Robin Hood's and a wooden sword tied around his waist to complete the ensemble. Although he felt a strong connection to him, it didn't feel like himself but as though he was sharing a mind with the boy and just seeing through the other's eyes.

The boy wandered the great expanse of the forrest, happily chasing small woodland creatures and skipping rocks in the stream. He was in complete bliss at finally being away from his step father and all his stupid rules. Here no one could get him. Not mean old Miss Wilson with her lethal riding crop nor the group of bullies at his school who thought it'd be good fun to lock the poor boy in the school's locker room for nine hours. Here, he was completely safe from anybody and everybody.

Now in the midst of exploring a small cave, the young boy was completely oblivious to the dark figure approaching him.

"There you are you little shit."

The boy whipped around almost tumbling off the rock he was standing on. Standing before him was a tall, lanky man whose messy hair could be faintly seen thanks to the glare of the sun.

The boy winced but stood his ground when the man roughly grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him out of his haven.

"Fucking little shit making me come all the way out here and running my new fucking trousers. You'll pay for this."

The boy was thrown to the ground and the man crawled over him despite the fact that dirt and grass were beginning to cling his clothes.

"I guess I can't be too mad though." He murmured lust clouding his vision. "This is more private than where our usual proceedings take place."

Screams could be heard echoing from the forest as the man descended onto the poor frightened boy.

Arthur's eyes snapped open and sat up abruptly banging his head on the bunk above him.

"Bloody hell!" He muttered rubbing his sore forehead.

What the hell kind of dream was that? Did he really just dream about some kid getting raped in the woods? Arthur shuddered as unwelcome memories of what could have happened on that dirty couch years ago rushed into his head.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the Brit tried to will away those thoughts. Allistor was locked away in some god-forsaken mental institution and he was safe, no one was going to harm him here.

Green eyes cracked open and a blurred violet clouded his vision. Arthur blinked a couple times in surprise thinking that the purple hues meant that there was something wrong with his vision, but after a couple more blinks the Brit realized they were not purple blurs but two wide, violet eyes staring at him about an inch from his face.

The blonde squeaked in surprise and jerked backwards hitting his head on the wall behind him.

Smooth move, exlax. Arthur thought snidely.

The violet eyed boy blinked at the shocked boy and tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner.

"Do you usually talk in your sleep?"

"I-" Arthur was at a loss for words. First of all, he had no idea why this random guy was practically hovering over his bunk, and secondly, he was thoroughly embarrassed that this boy had heard him murmur god knows what while he had been sleeping.

The other boy's violet eyes closed and he smiled in what either could be interpreted as really sweet or completely terrifying; Arthur wasn't quite sure.

"Well hopefully this is not a usual thing, da? I have a bunch of early morning classes and I would hate to lose sleep."

Oh so this was his other roommate. Fantastic.

Arthur cleared his throat. "I understand, I'm sorry to have bothered you. I-I don't usually talk in my sleep so I don't think you should have a problem."

The eerily sweet grin still plastered on his face, the other boy opened his eyes and extended a gloved hand towards Arthur. The Brit hesitated in taking it, mostly because he was preoccupied with observing the other boy's attire. It was about seventy-two degrees and sunny outside and the boy was wearing a long, tan coat, gloves and a light pink scarf. He must be dying right now.

"You're being very rude." Arthur's head snapped back up to meet the other boy's pouting expression.

"Pardon?"

"I was just saying my name is Ivan. It's nice to meet you." The Russian boy muttered averting his eyes and letting his hand drift down slightly.

"Ah! I'm terribly sorry! My name is Arthur. It's a pleasure to meet you Ivan." He stuttered grabbing the boy's hand tightly and giving it a firm shake.

Ivan nodded at the Brit and released his hand to head over to a bright yellow suit case. Arthur eyed him curiously as he watched the Russian unpack.

"I didn't think it'd be so warm here." The platinum blonde male murmured as he unpacked more coats and think sweaters and folded them neatly on the dresser.

"I think this is technically a cold front considering the season."

"Really?" The Russian man asked, a genuine smile gracing his lips at the thought of finally escaping his former country's constant cold.

"Yup!" Arthur couldn't help but grin back at the other man. Once you got over his initial scariness, he actually seems very nice. The Brit mused.

A spruce of yellow caught Arthur's gaze as he turned to look at the desk by the window.

"Sunflowers?"

Ivan turned crimson at the other boy's tone and coughed awkwardly. "Da. I hope you don't mind. They're my favorite."

"Not at all. They are lovely."

The Russian boy grinned at the statement and refocused his attention on unpacking.

Arthur smiled to himself, nightmare completely forgotten as he got out of bed to finish unpacking his own things.

So far things were turning out better than he could have ever thought and for the first time in a long time, Arthur felt hopeful that things would only get better from here on out.

A/N: HOLY SHIT BORING ASS CHAPTER -_- I promise the chapters will get better soon but it's gonna take another chapter or two to set up the plot. Haha and I'm sorry but I just HAD to include Russia in this, him and England are tied for first as my favorite Hetalia characters. :3 I'm not sure on what the pairings of the story are going to be yet, but I know it's not going to be RussiaxEngland 'cause as much as I love those two, I don't like the pairing very much at all ;P Well I'll hopefully see y'all soon with a MUCH more interesting chapter. Anywho~ Thank you all for reading! Please don't forget to leave me feedback! Reviews make my muse happy x)

3 Dani


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Wow so this is like the slowest update ever. -_- I'm sorry guys, I really have no excuse for being so late except probably laziness :/. I am a horrible person. ._.

WARNINGS: human!au / extreme violence / coarse language / sexual themes / mentioned rape/ character death

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

PAIRINGS(in this chappie): spamano...and that's about it for this chappie x)

DISCLAIMER: I no own. TT^TT… Actually that's probably a good thing xD

It was good to be home alone for a change. His mother was out with one of her friends from high school and his brothers were off at school learning all sorts of useless crap like addition and spelling. The boy scoffed at the thought of the last teacher who had tried to shove that crap down his throat. He had told her exactly where she could shove that riding crop of hers she had prided so much.

Putting the last dish away in the cabinet, the teen turned off the leaky faucet and sighed. The asshole had let him drop out of school on two conditions, if he became the little house maid and got a job. He hadn't complained about the job part of the deal; he could tell his mother was struggling to pay the bills with the shitload of debt the asshole had put them in so he could have his daily intake beer. He wasn't however, too fond of the idea of cleaning up after everybody's mess. His two younger brothers were five and six and so had not quite grasped the concept of picking up after themselves.

However bad they were though, the asshole was about ten times worse. He'd come home after a long day at the factory completely wasted. He'd stumble around a bit. Then go completely mad knocking random items off of shelves and puking his brains out in the kitchen sink. Each time, he made the teen clean up the mess before beating the shit out of him. His mother had tried to intervene several times, but just found herself being thrown into the bedroom by the drunk and all the children were forced to cover their ears to block out the screaming and moans of forced pleasure.

The teen remembered one time in particular when his youngest brother crept down the stairs silently and watched in horror as the man slapped around his big brother.

"D-daddy? Wh't you doing to brutha?" He asked, his wide eyes shining with tears and genuine curiosity.

The drunken man halted his actions immediately and was at the crying boy's side in a second.

"Shh. Don't cry now, sweetheart. Your brother and I were just playing a game, that's all. Go to bed; he'll be up there in a moment." He cooed in that voiced reserved only for his son and his wife on rare occasions.

"O-okay. I got scared and I could na sleep. Can big brutha come read me a story?"

The man's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he just patted his son on the head and smiled. "Of course, love." His head snapped around to glare at the beaten boy who was picking himself off of the ground. "I expect you back down here in an hour." He said emotionlessly before smiling back down at his favored son and heading towards the kitchen.

The teen groaned as he stood up and walked over to his younger sibling who was smiling at him expectantly, his tiny hands gripping the ends of his favorite book The Tale of Peter Rabbit.

"So wh't game were you 'nd daddy playing?"

The teen shook his head in disbelief. His brother was a smart kid and could figure out a lot of things on his own, so why was he pretending to be so naive? Did he really just not understand what went on every night, or did he just choose to ignore it to preserve this idolized picture of the dirtbag he had created.

"Well let's head upstairs and start the story. Sound good?"

He didn't even get the question out before the excited boy darted up the stairs and left his older the brother to gape after him.

"Little twerp." He muttered fondly before heading up after his little brother.

The teen blinked back into reality, barely registering the fact that at some point he had gone upstairs and started cleaning up his mother's bedroom.

Sighing he sank down into his mother's favorite chair looking out into her garden, her pride and joy. Weeds were beginning to overtake the garden now and his mother's daffodils were starting to become a dead brown. The chair was stiff and smelled like the reminisce of sex, but it was really the only place in the house that the teen felt most comfortable. His lulled to the side and his heavy eyelids closed. A short nap wouldn't hurt and he could finish cleaning in about an hour.

The teen was just on the verge of consciousness when the door to his mother's bedroom flew open. His eyes snapped open just in time to be pulled up from the chair by the roots of his hair.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing lazing around here! You're supposed to be cleaning you fucking slut!"

Pain-filled green eyes met furious dirt colored ones. Fuck, the asshole was home and he was pissed. The teen quickly realized that he must have been out of it longer than he thought he had.

"Well speak up you little fucker!"

"Calm the fuck down!" The teen yelled, tears forming in the corners of his eyes but he refused to let them fall. "It was just a quick nap. I was going to clean this shit hole up in a moment." He knew better than to curse at his stepdad, but he was tired and cranky and sure as hell not in the mood for this kind of shit.

"Why you little-"

The teenager could not make out the rest of the man's sentence because his ears were ringing from having his head slammed against the wall. The asshole continued to pound the boy's skull against the wall until there was a physical dent in the plaster.

"Tell me you're sorry! Say it!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! S-stop!"

"You're not sorry enough." The teen heard the telltale sign of a zipper being undone and he averted his eyes from the window and his mother's quaint little garden. The scene was too peaceful for the teen to bear at the moment.

"Daddy? Brother?"

Both of their heads snapped in the direction of the opened door and the small child standing in the doorframe. The small boy's father groaned irritably as he threw the teen onto the chair.

"Hi, sweetheart. Me and your brother were just having a little talk. Be a good boy and join your brothers upstairs." He said, trying to keep his temper down.

"Why is there blood on brother? What are you doing to him?" The boy became frantic now. There was blood that was beginning to stain the carpet. His eldest brother had taught him what blood was. Blood meant bad, and right now there was a lot of it coming from his older brother.

"Get upstairs now!" The man yelled, finally losing his patience.

"No! Brother!"

"I said go!"

The young boy was shoved out of the room and had the door slam in his face. He began pounding on the door in hopes of breaking it down, but only managed to shake it a bit with his tiny fists. Screams were beginning to emit from the room as well as his father's low moans.

"No, no, no! Daddy stop you're hurting him! Brother? Brother can you hear me? Brother! Allistor!"

Arthur Kirkland's eyes snapped open as he awoke from his nightmare.

~PAGE BREAK~

_**pasticcioitaliano62 has logged on.**_

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 1:59 PM]**_

Hey! Where have you been? You were supposed to have logged on like an hour ago.

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 1:59 PM]**_

Hellooooo? :(

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 2:01 PM]**_

I can see you're online. Fucking answer already!

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 2:02 PM] **_

Fine fuck you then!

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 2:04PM]**_

…just answer

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 2:07 PM]**_

Fine, whatever you bastard. Don't answer. Why the fuck should I care? It's not like I give a fuck about you.

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 2:08 PM]**_

OK. I didn't mean that. Just pick up your phone.

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 2:08 PM]**_

….please?

_**From: pasticcioitaliano62**_

_**[Message 2:11 PM]**_

Look, I'm sorry okay? Please don't ignore me.

_**Toni1936 has logged off.**_

"Well fuck you too then, bastard!"

Lovino huffed and slammed his laptop shut without even bothering to log out first. Rolling over on his back, he gave the ceiling the best stink eye he could possibly manage without burning a hole in the plaster.

Damn that bastard. Damn him to hell and then some.

The Italian continued to mentally curse and glare at the plain ceiling until he began to feel dizzy. He needed some fresh air, he realized. He had been sitting in that stuffy dorm since earlier this morning waiting for that bastard to answer and he yearned for some nice fresh air.

With a less than graceful leap off of the bunk, Lovino landed in a pile of clothing he had dumped out from his suitcase. He smirked as he remembered the disgusted looks he had received from his roommates' when he had done that. Served the assholes right for confusing him with Feliciano.

Grabbing a t-shirt and his wallet, the Italian boy marched out the door haughtily, his pissy attitude from earlier returning with full force.

What the hell gave that bastard the right to ignore him anyways? He was the one who wanted to try this stupid long distance bullshit in the first place. What was the point in 'going out' if the bastard just ignored him all the fucking time?

Lovino walked on in contemplation as he exited the dorm building. Shoving his hands deep within his pockets, he kept his eyes glued to the pavement as he passed a small group of chatty girls. They all stared at him as he approached, their whispering voices emitting from their huddle.

"Isn't that Lovino Vargas?"

"No way Vargas? Isn't that that actor guy's grandson?"

"Yup."

"He's cute."

"I heard he's the biggest asshole ever."

"I've heard that too."

"His brother's cuter anyway."

"He has a brother?"

"Yeah. He's the cutest thing ever!"

Lovino walked pass the gossiping girls quickly, his pace picking up when his brother was mentioned. Their voices were deafening and all he wanted to do was get away.

He ran right into the back of a taller, auburn-haired man.

"Whoops! Are you okay there-"

"What the fuck was that asshole? Who stands right in the middle of a fucking sidewalk? It's meant for WALKING not standing, dumbass."

"Er…" The man was clueless at how to respond to the raging Italian and gave a quick side glance to his taller companion. "I'm sorry?"

"You'd better be asshole!"

"Hey now, I don't know who pissed in your Cheerios this morning, but calm yourself down." The man with sandy hair said stepping in between the two.

Lovino opened his mouth to make a smart remark, but was quickly interrupted by the man.

"Anyways… We need to find Arthur Kirkland. Do you have any idea where we can find him?"

Lovino blinked and scrutinized the man towering over him. Now that he thought about it, these guys did look like somebody he had met before. His eyes caught sight of the giant growths hovering over the man's emerald eyes. Ah, he knew who they were looking for now.

"You mean the kid with the giant ass eyebrows?" He asked continuing to stare at the man's matching set.

Green eyes looked up at the sky. "Yes, yes. The kid with the 'giant ass eyebrows.'"

Lovino considered the idea of telling them the wrong building just to screw with them, but decided against it, his heart aching way too much to mess with anybody at the moment.

"Yeah he's in Building E. IT's that one over there." He indicated which one with a finger.

The taller of the two men eyed him suspiciously, but the other gave him a wide, toothy smile. "Thank you very much!"

"…Yeah sure." Seeing how their conversation was over, Lovino walked around the two men and continued on his way. He did not like that smile the man gave him. It reminded him too much of Feli's.

Feli.

Don't get Lovino wrong, he loved his brother he really did, but he was sick and tired of always being reminded of how he could never live up to him. Feliciano would always be the artistic one, the cute one, the good-mannered one, the better one. Lovino was always constantly reminded that he was living in his younger brother's shadow.

No longer feeling like being outside surrounded by all these people, the Italian did a complete one-eighty and headed straight back for his room uncaring if he knocked into students or faculty along the way.

It was 3:09 and his room was still dark when he returned just as he figured it would be. Ever since he had requested to switch dorms, his roommates had been spending less and less time inside the confines of the small room. Lovino sighed and climbed up to his bunk. He grabbed his iPod out from beneath his pillow and he was grateful for the mind numbingly loud bass pounding in his ears. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he finally decided to open up his laptop. His eyes widened.

_**You have 15 New Messages.**_

About damn time. Lovino thought snidely. "Heh. The idiot is probably apologizing for ignoring me earlier like a douche bag."

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:25]**_

Lovi. I love you.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:25]**_

I am so sorry.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:26]**_

I know you will never forgive me for this, but I hope in time you'll understand and you will come to forgive me.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:39]**_

I did something terrible. Something that I will never be able to forgive myself for.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:39]**_

This is the only way….

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:41]**_

Do you remember that one night I called you at 2 in the morning and you cussed me out for waking you up, but agreed to date me anyways that same night?

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:42]**_

That was one of the best nights of my life.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:43]**_

Eres mi άngel.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:43]**_

I love you, and it's because of you I can do this. You give me strength.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:43]**_

I can't die knowing I what I did, and I know .

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:44]**_

Lovino…. I did something horrible and now one of my dearest friends is going to pay for it.

Lovino took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He was prepared for the worst and his mind was screaming over and over again that the bastard was confessing to cheating on him. Tears swelled up at the corners of his eyes and dripped onto the laptop's keyboard. Inhaling sharply, Lovino opened his eyes and continued reading.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:45]**_

Call the police as soon as you read this and tell them that a man named Allistor is alive and has most likely murdered Francis Bonnefoy in Berlin. Tell them that I helped that monster escape and hel[ped fake his death.

Lovino could feel his eyes widen about ten times. What? Murder? What the hell was Antonio talking about?

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:47]**_

I know what I did was wrong, but at the time all I could think of was helping my friend, Gil.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:48]**_

I'm a dead man now and there is no other way this could have ended, but I pray to whatever god is looking down upon me that you will not think badly of me once I am gone. I love you with all my heart mi άngel and I hope to see you again on the other side.

_**From: Toni1936**_

_**[Message 2:48]**_

I love you.

Lovino blinked. Then blinked again.

What the fuck?

Hazel eyes read and reread the message in front of him, but the Italian boy still could not make any sense of them. Was this Antonio's idea of a sick joke? Was he paying him back for that one time he had ignored him for a week after telling him to go kill and himself? Lovino's eyes narrowed. That had to be it! That bastard, trying to make a fool out of him and get him all worried.

"Yeah well fuck you Antonio. If you wanted to break up with me you could've just said so. Fucking bastard."

Lovino slammed his laptop down onto the ground which landed onto of the large pile of clothes with a soft thud and with it fell the chance to save so many lives that were about to be claimed by the sadistic Scotsman.

~PAGE BREAK~

Antonio was bleeding badly and he couldn't move the bottom half of his body. After Allistor had walked out after Gilbert, he had immediately crumpled to the ground. The lab jacket he had been forced to wear was becoming soaked in blood and he was beginning to feel light headed.

_I can't let that monster get away with this. _He thought, but quickly became discouraged with the idea. Allistor said he would kill Gilbert if he told anybody, but how was Antonio supposed to know that Gilbert was safe now? That bastard could have stabbed him right outside the doorway for all he knew. But the Spaniard dismissed those thoughts as well. Allistor had said he needed Gilbert, and would probably end up using him before disposing of him in some way.

_I have to tell somebody._ Antonio concluded. He tried to sit up and groaned at the effort. At the rate he was going, he would bleed himself dry before he could make it to his car and get his phone. He groaned and slumped back down onto the concrete. He failed. He failed and now Francis and Gilbert were going to pay for it. His two best friends were probably going to die because of him.

The familiar beep of his laptop caused Antonio's head to snap up at that moment. His laptop was on one of the metal tables from earlier when he was waiting for Gilbert and Allistor to wake up. Mustering all his possible strength, the Spanish man dragged the lower half of his body towards the laptop using his elbows in sort of an army crawl. The beeps on his computer continued as he slowly made his way over to it. He had just reached the table when he was met with silence.

Pulling himself up, he grabbed the laptop and sank back down onto the ground. All this work was not helping his bleeding back any, but the Spaniard was determined to tell somebody what had happened here before…

This Hispanic man choked back a sob at the thought, but opened up his laptop. He was met by very angry IM's from his lover Lovino. Antonio smiled as he thought about his little tomato. Lovino wouldn't want him to die a coward. If this was to be the Spanish man's last day, he wanted to die with a purpose. He cursed under his breath when his hand accidentally hit the log off button and quickly logged back on. He sighed in reef to see that his tomato had not logged off yet.

He began typing.

When he finished he closed his eyes and sighed contently. The life was slipping from his veins quickly and he knew he had no more time left. Antonio inhaled his last breath of air with a smile on his face at the thought of Lovino stopping that monster.

The time was 3:09.

A/N: OMYGOSH NOOO! Antonio! Baby cakes TT^TT. I'm sorry I had to kill him off guys. I love him so much though and I got so sad while writing this. Spamano is like one of my favorite pairings in Hetalia. I'm sad now. Anywho~ Please don't forget to review guys. I'm serious you have no idea how happy reviews make me :3 Until next time!

MWUAH!

Dani


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey guys :3 I'm completely sorry for ignoring this story for so long . I am sort of losing inspiration for it. Like I know exactly how I want it to go, but I kinda hate the way I've been writing it -_- Like I love the idea for it but I'm a shitty writer and this story is really reflecting that. :P But yeah I'm debating whether or not to scrap the whole story and start over from scratch or just continue it. I'll probably end up rewriting it once I get my laptop in April 'cause you have no idea how super hard it is to write decently on an iPod touch :/ . But anywho~ I wanted to update because surprisingly there are a lot of people who have favorited and followed this story and I would hate to let y'all down. Just beware that I might rewrite it in the near future.

Sweat was rolling down the Brit's forehead as he awoke from his hellish nightmare. Never had he had such a vivid and realistic nightmare before. It had scared the hell out of him. Why the hell was he dreaming about Allistor? Had he been the other little boy in his other dream? Why did he keep dreaming him being... being...

Arthur felt like he was about to be sick.

He scrubbed at his eyes furiously to try and rid himself of the memory of his brother's screams. They had sounded so real...

A knock at the door snapped Arthur out of his thoughts and he looked around and finally noticed that he was alone in his dorm. The idiot American probably forgot his key again. Rolling his eyes, the boy hopped out of bed and quickly answered the door. What he saw shocked him silent, which was a very hard feat indeed.

"Arthur!" His older brother Aiden yelled enthusiastically and threw his arms around the smaller boy. "We missed you so much buddy! The house is way too quiet without you!"

Arthur stood stunned in his brother's embrace and looked at his oldest brother for some sort of reasoning for this visit. Said brother carefully avoided his gaze and made his way into the small dorm, his head nearly touching the ceiling. He looked worn out and for the first time ever, old.

"I'm so happy to see you both..." Arthur began worming his was out of the tight embrace. "But, what are you guys doing here?"

Aiden sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. Him and Dylan exchanged looks over the shorter boy's head which did not go unnoticed by the Brit. Arthur eyes them both suspiciously and tapped his foot impatiently as they both remained silent. They obviously needed to tell him something important if they had to make the four and a half hour drive out here, so why not just tell him? He hated secrets.

"Well?"

"Arthur why don't you sit down-"

"No!" The blonde snapped, feeling unusually angry at the moment. He couldn't explain it. He should be thrilled to see his brothers right now, but a part of him was getting very pissed that they wouldn't just cut to the chase. "Either you tell me why you are here or leave. I am in no mood for beating around the bush right now."

"Arthur... I don't know how to tell you this, but Allistor is... Allistor is dead." Aiden mumbled quietly a he stared intently at the floor.

Arthur felt his mouth go dry. Allistor was dead? As much as the Brit wanted to want to jump up and down and celebrate, he felt a strange pang of sadness. Even if he had been a sadistic bastard, Allistor had still been his brother.

"Oh." Arthur couldn't think of what else to say. Should he say that was terrible? No. Should he break down and weep for his brother? Probably not.

Dylan walked up then and placed a hand on the Brit's shoulder.

"We know he hurt you, Arthur and we will never forgive him for that, but we just thought it would be nice to hold a service for him. You are not obligated to come. We would all understand."

"I'll come." Arthur said shakily. "H-How did he die?"

Aiden looked away and the hand on Arthur's shoulder felt suddenly heavier. "He committed suicide." The eldest brother finally said.

"I see."

The room was filled with silence. Aiden still had his gaze fixed on Alfred's Steelers posters and Dylan was trying his best to remain stoic in his brothers' presence.

Arthur cleared his throat then catching the attention of the two men. "Can I ask something?"

"Go ahead."

The Brit exhaled slowly. He knew this was probably not the best time to ask this question, but he had to know. He might not ever forgive the Scotsman for what he did, but maybe he can understand why he did it. "Did my dad... hurt Allistor?"

Both brothers tensed at the question and the hand from Arthur's shoulder snapped back as though the boy had just announced that he had leprosy.

"You were too young to remember that-" Aiden whispered. "Who told you that? How did you-"

"Nobody told me." The younger cut in quickly. "I-I've been having nightmares."

"We don't talk about that." Dylan snapped quickly. His usual stoic demeanor quickly melting away as his rage built up.

"But-"

"Arthur please. Just leave it be." Aiden pleaded quietly.

"Okay, okay fine. I'm sorry you guys." He really didn't need them to tell him the morbid details anyways. His dreams were doing the job just fine it seemed. Silence consumed them as they all stood there not sure how to continue.

Luckily a loudmouthed American and his much more tolerable brother decided to walk in at that moment.

"I'm telling you Mattie I'm fine! It's really no big-" Alfred stopped immediately at the sight of the trio standing solemnly in the middle of his room. His angry expression melted away immediately and he gave his usual 100-watt grin. "Artie dude what the hell? You should've told us you were gonna have people over. I would've totally bought us, like, some burgers or something!"

"Ah, yes. Sorry about that. Um. Matthew, Alfred, these are my brothers: Aiden and Dylan."

Both brothers nodded curtly and Matthew returned the gesture with a shy wave. Alfred stepped forward dramatically and shook the pair's hands enthusiastically. "No way I didn't know Artie had brothers! That's super awesome!"

"It's Arthur, git." The Brit piped in haughtily. The tense atmosphere in the room was temporarily forgotten for the moment as everyone laughed as the prissy blonde and Alfred continued their banter.

~PAGE BREAK~

The sun was beginning to set in Berlin when Francis Bonnefoy finally woke up. Two wine bottles he had downed that morning clattered to the ground as he ascended from his bed and trudged over to the bathroom. He felt like shit. Three hours straight of being pounded into by a three hundred pound man and waking up to a hangover can do that to a person. Francis groaned as he pulled out a bottle of pain killers and swallowed two dry.

Another day, another dollar. Quite literally.

The Frenchman sighed as he proceeded to shave his face, leaving just the right amount of stubble on his chin. Nothing sounded better right now than to curl back up in bed and not get up until tomorrow, but unfortunately he was behind on rent again and he could no longer rely on his parents to help him out after that one time where he had lost their money in a game of cards. He was surprised his parents hadn't cut him off sooner seeing how that was probably his third or fourth time gambling their money away.

A stinging in his left cheek brought the man back into reality as he nicked his face with the blade. Cursing softly the man dabbed his cheek with toilet paper to try and stop the bleeding and small drops of crimson were beginning to stain his white button up. It wasn't like the frenchman minded much. Why should he be allowed to wear such a pristine and innocent color when he himself was not? He preferred it for the color to be soiled and stained. It suited him better than white ever could.

There you go being poetic again, Bonnefoy. He thought snidely. True the Frenchman had been very poetic and quite the dreamer in his youth, but very soon he learned the cruel, hard reality that luxury came at a price that Francis could most certainly not afford.

Deeming the cut healed, he threw away the toilet paper and rinsed his mouth before quickly brushing his wavy locks. He had to hurry if he was going to assume his usual position on the corner of Karl-Liebknecht-Straße.

Downing another pain killer for good measure, Francis was ready to depart. He locked up his apartment door and headed out onto the empty street. Any other day the city would've been bustling with life, but it looked like a storm was on its way and everybody had run to the shelter of their homes before it could hit. They were all probably cuddled up and warm with their loved ones and didn't have a fucking care in the world. Lucky bastards.

Lighting flashed in the distance as Francis made it to his corner. Now all he had to do was stand and wait for some poor bloke willing to be suckered out of his money for a good time. The blonde leaned against the street sign pole and brought out a pack of cigarettes. Not even two seconds after he ignited one a man came sauntering down the road. Francis eyes him wearily. There was a swagger in the man's step that the blonde did not quite like. Still a costumer was a costumer.

"Bonjour. How are you this fine evening, monsieur?" Francis purred bringing the cigarette up to his lips as he studied the man. Red hair, piercing green eyes, slim figure; this man was nothing less than gorgeous. This only served to heighten Francis' nerves. His usual clientele were mostly, and pardon him for not being particularly politically correct, fat and ugly but at the same time lonely and craving affection. This man did not look like he needed either and usually when Francis ended up with a pretty boy, they usually turned out to be sadistic jerks looking for a revenge lay.

The red haired man smirked and nodded to the pack of cigarettes. "Hand me one of those. I haven't had a fag in a couple of hours."

The Frenchman blinked at the man's strange accent but extended the box to him anyway. The red head took a cigarette and a lighter from his own pocket before inhaling the tobacco. Francis was stared at the man's smirking lips breath out a cloud of smoke as though in a trance. He couldn't put his finger on it but this man seemed really familiar.

"So how does this work? I haven't purchased a whore before."

This time Francis couldn't help but gape at the man's bluntness. He quickly gained his composure and answered the man. "I have a place not too far from here."

"Great." The man answered with a little too much vigor if you asked Francis. "I'll pull up my car."

With that the man walked away and turned a corner leaving Francis quite bewildered. A sinking feeling began to form in the frenchman's stomach and he had half the mind to turn around and high tail it out of there, but gnawing reminder that he would actually like to et something this week stopped him from doing so. Instead he waited quietly as a black car came around the corner. Assuming it was the man, he walked up and got in.

"Glad you could make it." The man said smoothly and Francis had to force himself not to roll his eyes.

"Yeah..." He answered back awkwardly and shifted in his seat. He did not like the way the man was looking at him. His smile was borderline sadistic and his eyes held a malicious glint.

Please, God, let this end quickly.

"So I was thinking we go to my place instead." The man said casually, his eyes now focused on the road but he snuck a sly glance at the blonde and smirked. "It's much more... private."

"Hn." The frenchman's palms were beginning to sweat. He did not like this at all.

The rest of the drive was silent which Francis was thankful for. He let his eyes wander out the window as they drove out of the city. His mind subconsciously went to a news report he had seen about a month ago where a prostitute had been found stabbed to death after disappearing for six days. He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. He had accepted many rides from complete steamers scarier than this man, so he did not know why he was overreacting so much. There was just something do hauntingly familiar...

Blue eyes wandered over to his companion as he studied him silently. He did look familiar. Maybe he had been a costumer before? No. Francis was pretty sure he would remember this man. So why did he feel like he knew him. His eyes wandered past the man's emerald orbs and his eyes widened in recognition. Fuck it all only one family had those eyebrows. And only one person in that family had fiery red hair. In other words, Francis was screwed.

"Fuck."

Allistor chuckled darkly. "Oh good, you remember me."

"Oh, God." Francis fumbled with his seatbelt clumsily, prepared to jump out of the car if he had to. This was Allistor. The same man who had sewed his childhood lover's mouth shut just for being a little past curfew. What the fuck was he doing here. "Please God, no."

Francis felt a cool hand on his halting his actions and he stared up at the emerald hues fearfully. The scottish man's wolfish grin widened at the horror in the other's ocean blue eyes. This was going to be more in than he had thought.

"Welcome to hell, you filthy French whore."

A/N: Gah! I'm sorry this one's shorter you guys &Yup I am a horrible person :3 Cliffhanger ftw! :DDD Review people or else I'll send Allistor after you with a machete ^_^ tehe just kidding, but you all should still review! :D


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